The Morning After
by pladskrtgrl
Summary: The morning after doesn't start well...
1. Chapter 1

Tessa stretched across the sheets, her hand reaching out for...not Will. For years it had been Will she had looked for upon waking, but no, this morning there was another man absent from her bed.

Strains of a violin echoed from the balcony. How had he found one so soon? Wrapping herself in the sheet, Tessa padded quietly across the plushly carpeted hotel room floor.

On the balcony, Jem stood framed by the early morning light, Tessa's iPhone in hand. The sounds of a rapid bow sprang from it, scratchy at it's highest volume on the inefficient phone speakers. But it rose above the sounds of London, already honking taxis and lorries, shouting workers returning home from the night shift. Jem looked up as she stepped onto the cold stone tile of the balcony.

"This David Garret fellow's got some talent," he said. He shifted in front of the sun, making it easier to see to see his face. Looking at her wrapped on the sheet, a blush rose under the dark marks carved into his cheek bones. Tessa felt her own skin answer in the same manner under his shy gaze. Jem's long violinist fingers flickered over the screen of the phone, pausing the song mid-chorus.

"Mastering technology already I see," Tessa said.

"It's almost like magic," Jem said, one side of his mouth quirking up in a smile. "Almost."

"Don't let Magnus catch you saying that."

Jem turned to the balcony rail, spreading his arms over it and leaning out over the city. "Yes, I've heard his opinions on it. And people accuse _me_ of being old-fashioned."

Jem's sweater sagged between his raised shoulder blades. His body was still as thin as ever, but had lost its sickly look in favor of wiry beauty. Last night she had been shocked to see the muscles that had survived the transition to Silent Brother and back again, stronger than they had been at seventeen. Strong enough to hold her down, make her twist wildly under his modest weight...

One hand gathering the sheet to her body still, Tessa stepped forward. When she reached Jem, she wrapped her free arm around his chest and pressed her face into the valley between his shoulders where the sweater sagged. His muscles tensed her touch and his pulse pounded beneath her ear. She lightly stroked up and down his breastbone then allowed her hand to slide lower, over clenching stomach muscles to the waist band of his jeans. She had forgotten what it was like to be loved by someone, but now that she had felt it again she wanted to repeat the experience.

But Jem gently slid out of her arms. His hand gripped her phone and he looked away over the rooftops. The steeple of the Institute was just visible through the smog, jutting above all else, and his eyes locked on it.

"Did I...did I do something wrong?" Tessa asked, feeling suddenly conscious of her nakedness, both literally and figuratively.

"No, nothing," Jem said, his voice low and tight.

"Was last night...not good?"

Jem scoffed and met her eyes. "You can not seriously be asking me that."

Insecurity rose up in Tessa, something she had so rarely felt around Jem that she had no idea what to do with it. "It's been a long time for me...I'm sorry...If it wasn't...it's been since..."

"Since Will." Jem's voice was hollow, not bitter.

"Actually, no," said Tessa.

Jem raised an eyebrow.

"Don't look at me like that. It's the twenty-first century. I've evolved."

A grin crooked across Jem's face as he again looked toward the Institute. "Of that I have no doubt, Tess."

"Then what's the problem?"

"You have evolved and I...have not." Jem looked shy again, not unlike the way her sons and grandsons had looked when caught in mischief. And suddenly she realized.

"You were perfect, James."

He shook his head. "Don't lie, Tess. I was dreadful."

"It wasn't!" Tessa said, fighting the ugre to stamp her foot. If only there was a way to make him feel what she had felt, looking at his face abover her, feeling his hands running over her body.

Jem turned back to the look at the Institute. He clicked play on the iPhone again and harsh strains of violin staticked out of the speakers. "Could we discuss later?"

Her brown furrowed in concern, Tessa stared again at his shoulders. But seeing that they were not relaxing, she backed away and went inside to dress.


	2. Chapter 2--The Day Before

They stood, somewhat uncomfortably, at either end of Tessa's suite's sitting area, an entire Oriental carpet's length between them. The clock ticked quietly on the wall, the seconds between tik-toks seeming to grow longer. Jem studied the toes of his boots, then looked up at Tessa through the fringe of his black—so dark! She couldn't get used to it—hair, smiling shyly. Tessa found it within herself to clear her throat. "Tea? A cup of tea?"

Jem nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, absolutely. Tea would be fine."

Relieved to have something to do, a goal to work towards, Tessa, moved to the small kitchenette behind her. She twisted the knobs on the range, blue flames flicking up beneath the burners. She rinsed yesterday's tea out of the kettle and then settled it clinking over the flames. Conscious of Jem still behind her in the sitting area, but too shy to turn around, to toss him a smile, she instead turned to the cupboard where the tea things were stored. They had kissed so passionately on the bridge, not a hint of embarrassment or shyness between them. But now, alone in her suite at The Victorian, a mood had descended that made her feel as if she were sixteen again—young and easily embarrassed, inexperienced with men and love. She shook her head, trying to clear these thoughts as she reached for a second tea cup. They would have a nice cup of tea, have a chat, get back to feeling as if they knew one another—

Hands came about her waist, where her top had lifted in stretching, exposing a strip of soft flesh. His violinist fingers felt their way slowly from her sides, dragging so that she could feel each fingertip separately until they converged at her belly button, lightly stroking the indent that ran down the center of stomach. She sucked in a breath and fumbled the tea cup, sending it crashing to the counter top. Jem's fingers froze. He started to pull away. "Didn't mean to frighten you—"

"No, no you didn't," said Tessa, righting the teacup, which had survived the fall.

Jem moved closer, nuzzling her neck, pulling her back to his chest. His lips trailed her hairline, not kissing so much as breathing her in. Somehow unable to let her lean back into him, Tessa began returning the tea things to the cupboard, and when the kettle whistled, even though Jem had moved on to gently sucking the place below her ear, she reached over and switched it off, moving the kettle to a cool burner.

"Tessa?"

"Hmm?"

"Am I interrupting you?" Jem asked, a touch of irony in his voice. He turned her with in his arms, and when she faced him he reached up and brushed the hair back from her face.

Tessa took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. She smiled. "No. You're not interrupting me."

Jem smiled back at her as well. The remnants of the Marks on his cheeks lifted and crinkled. "Good." He let his knuckles trail down her cheek. "Good."

They stood there, the tea cooling behind them, their chests rising and falling in rhythm, almost touching on the rise, and separating again on the fall. Jem left one hand on her waist, over her top, and the other lightly cupped her chin and neck. Her eyes rested on the V of his sweater, where a bit of white undershirt peaked out, and above it, skin almost as pale.

"We don't have to do anything, Tessa," Jem whispered. "It's not like I've waited over a century to be with you or anything." The wryness in his voice brought Tessa's face up with a laugh, and when it did she met his eyes. Their darkness, so familiar and unfamiliar at the same time, disarmed her and the laugh died quietly in her throat.

She lifted a hand let her fingers run over his lips. "James." And then she was kissing him again, their chests meeting on the rise and staying together, their arms wrapping around each other like crawling vines, locking them together. The burnt sugar taste of Jem she had thought of so often over the years was gone. Instead there was only the heat of his mouth on hers, nothing burnt or sweet. She parted his lips with her tongue, exploring deeper, her hand coming up behind his head to bring his face closer.

He lifted her onto the counter top, nudging between her knees. His hands came to the skin of her waist again, beneath the top now. They were strong and delicate, digging into her flesh when she bit his bottom lip. He gasped, breathing in air from her mouth, dragging her against him. She locked her legs around his slim waist, crossing her boots at the ankles. His lips dropped to her neck. She lid her hands down his front, looking for the edge of his sweater, hooking her fingers under it and sliding up his chest, feeling the ropy muscles beneath his tucked-in undershirt as she went.

He ducked his head as she brought the sweater up. His hair was mussed and he shook it out of his eyes, giving her a heady look, his lips parted and red, his chest rising and falling still. His arms, out of the sweater now, were leanly muscled, the hair on the sparse but dark, the muscles standing out beneath them and twitching as moved to bring her back to him. She reached lower again, seizing his belt buckle, and backing the strip out of the first loop.

"Tess," he murmured against her neck as she worked the buckle. "In which direction would the bedroom be? Not to sound ungrateful, but I never imagined my first time to take place a sink full of dirty dishes."

Tessa paused in her work on the buckle. Indeed, her breakfast dishes, the preparations of an omelet, sat in the metal basin beside them. She let out a laugh, "Of course, you wouldn't your first—"

Reality set in then, as she looked him in the face again. His first time. There was an earnest and bashful look on his face, a self-effacing smile tilting his lips but not his eyes. She leaned forward to kiss him, softer than any she had given him that day. His lips trembled as she drew away, sliding off the counter against him. She took his hand then, leading him to the far white door, behind which her bed rested, looking out on a balcony with a view of the city…


	3. Chapter 3--The Night Of

The Night Of

Jem Carstairs was awake. He did not open his eyes, but he could tell from his silent, coolness of the room that it was the middle of the night. The sheets were cool against his skin, night air breezing in from the open balcony doors. Since becoming fully human again sleep had largely been elusive, as if he were afraid to lay his head down, close his eyes, and risk not waking up to enjoy the life he had been restored to. He had dozed lightly after they were through, but was conscious all the time of Tessa's deep breathing beside him, the way she turned first toward the wall and then back to nuzzle her nose against his rib cage.

Now she was sprawled across his chest, the spread of her hair tickling him from neck to belly button. Little whistles of breath came from where her lips hovered against his skin. Her skin was warm against him, their limbs tangled beneath the heavy hotel comforter. Jem stretched but stayed within her grasp, trying not to move too much.

This is what had kept him going, what had allowed him to make that decision so long ago to try…try for a future with her. She had given him the will to fight death and life alike, to weather the years that did not pass. Knowing that one day he may, if he were gifted with all the luck in the world, fall asleep in her arms.

Giving in to insomnia once again, Jem opened his eyes and turned his head on the pillow to look at the glowing face the clock. Two A.M. Hours before sunrise. And though the stars shown in the open door, it was too dark to even count the cracks in the ceiling. He turned back to look at the woman lying next to him, her brown hair tumbled across his bare chest. Tessa. Tessa, at last, after all these years. He reached down to brush that hair off her face so that he could better see her delicate features in the starlight.

She nuzzled against his chest as he did so, murmuring, "Will. Will, stop, I'm sleeping." A gentle snore followed them. Jem's hand froze suspended above her forehead.

Will.


	4. Chapter 4--The Morning After AgainNote

The Morning After Again

Jem leaned against the balcony, the sun rising behind him. Unsure of what to do with himself he had snagged Tessa's iphone. There was a sack of books beside the bed, but he had never been much of a reader… No, that had been Will. Will, who Tessa had just spoken to in her sleep…

Just a little tease, folks! Sorry I haven't been able to update; I've been busy with another very exciting writing project!

You have all been so great in reading, following, favoriting and reviewing this story! It makes my day every time I log on and see that someone else has reviewed! So I'm hoping I can ask a favor of you. My first original story _A Cottage Christmas_ under the pen name EmmaLee McCrickett has been published by The Wild Rose Press. It's just gone up on Amazon/Kindle this past week. If you are part of the Kindle Select program you can read it for free. I would love, love, love to get some reviews on there.

First three to review on there and message me about it here get to make requests for the next chapter of _The Morning After_. Come on, you know you want me to write Jem in the shower ;)


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